Cursed

by K. K. Allen

  The smile that spreads across her face warms my insides despite current events. “I’d like that very much, Kat.” She pats my knee above the comforter, then she stands and hands me a teacup filled with steaming liquid. When did that get here?

  “It’s my special concoction. I promise this will help you get a good night’s sleep. I meant to give it to you earlier.”

  I don’t spend any more time questioning how or when the tea arrived at my bedside. I take a few slow sips and thank Charlotte as she’s closing the door to my room. Then I lay my head back on my pillow and easily fall asleep.

  The moment I begin my descent of the grand staircase, my mouth tingles at the aroma of bacon and eggs. I’m still groggy from the long trip and lack of sleep, but thankfully, no other dreams haunted me during the night. I follow the scent past the white great room, through a brilliant mahogany arch, and into a lavish dining room decorated in a sea of electric blue—from the plates on the wall to the table coverings and oversized candles on them. I’m mesmerized by it all.

  Charlotte greets me at the dining room entrance with a smile. “Good morning, Kat. You look well rested. Your grandmother had to run a quick errand this morning, so I thought I’d give you a tour while we wait.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  I don’t tell Charlotte how angry my stomach is with hunger. Instead, I let her lead me all over the much-too-large house, trying to not let my jaw drop over every exquisite detail. The main floor is daunting in itself, with what Charlotte told me was a thirty-foot-high coffered ceiling, supported by cast Italian stone columns. They extend all the way to the upper-floor gallery, where the great room overlooks a breathtaking view of the bay and the endless sea beyond it.

  Charlotte takes me past the foyer and grand staircase into another section of the house, skipping a narrow hallway. “What’s down there?”

  “Oh, that’s Rose—er, your grandmother’s quarters. Rose prefers to not take the stairs, so if you ever need her, this is where you’ll find her—in her bedroom, her study, or the library. They’re all down there.”

  “Library?” My curiosity is immediately piqued.

  Charlotte lights up, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Oh, yes. And it’s by far the most charming room in the entire house. I’ll leave that up to your grandmother to show you herself, but I’ll let her know you’re eager to see it. Come with me.”

  She continues the tour, showing me the many guest bedrooms, her arts-and-crafts room, and a giant darkroom with theater seating and a projection screen on one wall.

  Then she turns to me and claps her hands. “That’s pretty much it for the tour. You’ve seen the pool and the beach. This is your home now, Kat. We’d very much like for you to feel comfortable here, so if there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

  Staring back at the woman, I wonder for the hundredth time in the past week who exactly she is to my grandmother. What is a “caretaker,” and what are her responsibilities to Summer Estate—and now to me?

  We’re on our way back downstairs when I can’t help but ask, “Why such a large home? This place is gorgeous and all, but I can’t imagine one person needing”—I sweep my arms around me—“all of this.”

  “Rose and your grandfather lived in Apollo Beach most of their lives. Their parents were the best of friends and all traveled from Greece to build the School of Gaia, a private college here. After she married your grandfather, they took what their parents built and expanded the community, which Rose now oversees. She has her hands in many areas—politics, real estate, education, and the environment. I suppose that all comes with a certain status that’s critical for her to uphold.” Charlotte is clearly being cautious as she answers.

  “You make it sound like Rose owns this town.”

  Charlotte shrugs. “Some say she does. Overall, your grandmother is a very well respected woman here.”

  “Overall?”

  Charlotte smiles. “Well, let’s just say there are a number of folks in this town who don’t love the idea of a woman running things. After George passed, it seems she’s never stopped having to prove herself.”

  “Really? Why?”

  Charlotte shrugs. “I’ll never understand it, but ever since the fire, Rose has had to deal with insurmountable pressure from the community. And it’s never let up.”

  “Wait. What fire?”

  Charlotte’s eyes flit away from mine, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Your mom never told you about the fire? Rose and your grandfather had a section of the house remodeled because of it.”

  I shake my head, and discomfort churns in my stomach. Why is it starting to feel like my mom kept so many secrets from me? “Not a word. Like I told you, she didn’t tell me much.”

  Charlotte sighs. “Right. I guess she wouldn’t have had a reason to share that. I shouldn’t have assumed you knew. Forget I said anything. Rose will surely tell you all about it in good time.”

  My jaw drops. “You can’t do that, Charlotte. I want to know about the fire. What happened? When?”

  Charlotte frowns, the deep creases between her eyes showing her worry. “I really should let Rose tell you, Kat. It’s her story, not mine. I’m sorry I mentio—”

  “Oh my gosh, Charlotte. Just tell me what you know,” I beg. “Unless you want me to start digging around on the internet and believe everything I read.”

  Charlotte’s eyes flash with worry before she lets out a heavy sigh and casts a long, stern look at me. “All right, all right.” Her voice is hushed and her eyes narrowed as if Rose might overhear her from wherever she is. “A little over ten years ago, there was an awful fire in the estate. No one knows how it started, but your grandfather was in the library when it all began. He was trapped for so long that everyone began to believe he was dead. Rose finally got to him and pulled him out. He was alive, but his condition worsened over time, and respiratory issues killed him a year later. Rose didn’t want to leave the place she and your grandfather had built, so she sought help to care for Summer Manor. That’s how I came into the picture.”

  My heart aches from such a tragic story of my poor grandfather. I wish I could have met him. Maybe my mom didn’t know about the fire. Surely, she would have wanted to visit after hearing something like that. Even as my questions and thoughts compile, I realize I’m trying to make sense out of something I haven’t even begun to understand. From how my mom had made it sound, George Summer loved her like a father, and in return, she cared for him deeply.

  Charlotte must have said all that she’s willing to say, because she leads me past the great room, and through an archway that leads to a formal dining room. Through the next set of wide-open doors, I spot a gourmet kitchen with beautifully ornate cabinets and sparkling countertops. It’s clear there isn’t a spot in this house that isn’t meticulously looked after.

  That feeling of just how out of place I am here snakes through me all over again, but I have no time to dwell on it. Moments after we’ve stepped into the dining room, the sound of the front door opening and shutting has my attention. My heart starts to race. All the anticipation and buildup about meeting Rose has done a number on my nerves.

  Charlotte pops onto her toes as excitement lights up her face. “Oh, good. She’s back. Time for breakfast.” She scrambles over to the nearest seat and pulls it out for me. “Go on. Have a seat. I’ll run and get the food.”

  I take my seat as she runs out of the room just as a stranger—my grandmother—enters the room, makes her way around the table, and sits across from me. The corners of her mouth are slightly upturned, but I’m struggling to figure out if she’s smiling or not.

  She doesn’t say a word while she looks me over as if trying to remember me from some past life. I do the same to her. With cotton-ball hair, dark-gray eyes, and the skin of a middle-aged woman, she is, in fact, a stunning sight. The woman may be in her upper sixties, but she doesn’t look a day over fifty.

  While I feel like I’m staring back at a stranger,
Rose’s curious expression makes me feel as if she doesn’t consider me a stranger at all.

  “You are more beautiful than I imagined." She speaks articulately, matter-of-factly, and with a tinge of a Greek accent. “It’s as if I’m looking at your mother’s reflection.”

  As nervous as I am, I find the strength to respond. “Is it? I was always curious about what my mother looked like when she was younger. She didn’t have any photos.”

  Rose brightens as she nods. “Well, you are the spitting image.” She leans back slightly and reaches for her glass of water. “I have plenty of photos. You’re welcome to all of them.”

  Relief makes its way through me. I don’t know what I expected to feel when I met Rose, but she isn’t nearly as intimidating as I imagined. “Thank you—” I nearly call her Grandma, but I stop myself. “Is it okay if I call you Rose?”

  Rose wrinkles her nose and waves a hand in the air. “Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable, dear.” Her gaze drops to where I’m tugging on my bracelet, still trying to remove it from my wrist like a dirty stain. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “It was my mother’s.” I look down at it, focusing on the clasp. “The clasp is broken though, and the chain is strong. I can’t seem to remove it.”

  “Perhaps you should take it as a sign.”

  I meet Rose’s gaze. “She gave this to me the day she died.” My chest feels shaky with emotion. “I don’t want to wear it anymore.”

  “But you must, Katrina. Your mother never took it off, and neither should you.”

  I frown. “But she doesn’t even know where it came from.”

  Rose nods. “She always believed it kept her safe. It will keep you safe too.”

  My breath catches in my chest at how much Rose knows. “That’s just a silly superstition. Look what happened as soon as she removed it. She died. I don’t want that reminder.”

  My grandmother’s eyes soften. “You shouldn’t think of it as a burden. It was a gift, the last thing your mother ever gave you, and she did so with good intention. The meaning behind that should never be lost. If it was your mother’s final wish for you to wear it, then that’s what you will do.” Then her cheeks lift enough for me to know she’s attempting to lighten the mood. “You must be starved. I believe Charlotte whipped us up some of your favorites.”

  I think I catch a wink from Rose, but it happens so quickly, I can’t be sure. My stomach tightens. How does she know what my favorites are? Rose looks over her shoulder just as Charlotte walks out with a large tray of food. I see bacon, eggs, and waffles with a side of blueberries. Not exactly the most original meal, but the meal is, in fact, my favorite.

  Charlotte doesn’t join us to eat as I expect. Instead, she leaves us to our meal and walks back into the kitchen.

  I fumble my napkin as I unfold it and place it on my lap. If there’s one thing my mom taught me well, it’s proper manners. If only I can get my nerves to cooperate, I might stand a chance of disguising my natural awkwardness. I pick up my fork and lift my gaze back to Rose. “You have a beautiful home.” I can’t help but wonder if she knows how my mom and I lived back in Silver Lake.

  “Thank you, Katrina. I do hope you will make yourself comfortable. This is your home now too.”

  I nod, appreciative of her hospitality, while also calculating when the right time will be to tell Rose that I don’t plan to stay for long.

  “Oh, and don’t worry, dear,” Rose says as she raises her fork to take a bite of egg. “Charlotte will show you around town, and you’ll make fast friends. Just in time for school to start up in the fall.” Rose peers up at me over her fork. “I’m not sure what you were planning to do about school when you were in Silver Lake, but there’s a lovely private school on the island that will be happy to take you.”

  I freeze. Humiliation accompanied by shock washes over me as I think about how to tell Rose that college isn’t in my future. Not now. Not ever. Not even if I wanted to go. “Well, um, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

  Rose sets her fork down and rests her hands in her lap. “Katrina, you should know that moving here gives you a clean slate. At everything. Your friendships, your education, your future. And I’ll help you however I can, every step of the way.”

  Her words and tone are so genuinely kind, but I get the feeling she knows things no one could have possibly told her. It doesn’t matter, though. I shake my head, refusing to believe that I deserve what she’s offering. I won’t take her pity. I’m not a charity case she can buy affection from because she suddenly cares about my wellbeing. Where has she been all these years? I can feel my insides start to quake.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying. There are things about me you’d never understand, that no amount of therapy could ever fix. I got kicked out of school for throwing a boy out a window. And then my mom died before I could finish high school. Even if I wanted to go to college, I couldn’t.” I avert my eyes from hers, look down at my plate, and start shoving food into my mouth as fast as I can. The sooner I feed my angry stomach, the sooner I can escape this room before my emotions get the better of me.

  The silence that follows stretches for so long that I nearly choke on my bite of blueberries when I hear her speak again.

  “I understand more than you know.” Her tone is quiet, but the intensity behind her words shakes my bones. “Soon, you’ll come to understand it too.”

  I look up at my grandmother, her cryptic message making me see her in a whole new light. It’s like she already has an agenda for me, one she doesn’t plan on giving me any say in.

  Charlotte steps quietly back into the room, her eyes darting between us. “Can I get you two anything else?”

  Rose’s gaze roams over me. “Perhaps you and Katrina could head to the island today. I’m sure you could use some new… items.”

  I look at Charlotte then back at Rose. I brought my entire wardrobe from back home, so it's unnecessary to go shopping so soon. “Thank you, Rose, but I have clothes. You don’t need to buy me anything.”

  “Nonsense, dear. You are not on vacation. Surely, you’ll need things for the summer. I insist. I would take you myself, but my week is jam-packed with events. Charlotte will take you and show you around the island. It’s where everyone in town hangs out.”

  I think that’s the third time she’s mentioned an “island,” and I’m just now questioning it. “Are you talking about an actual island? We’re on the bay coast. There aren’t any islands around here.”

  Rose’s eyes light up like a million bulbs switched on at once. “Well, then I insist you go today and see it for yourself. What do you think, Charlotte?”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Charlotte says.

  I take a peek over my grandmother’s shoulder at Charlotte, who is giving me one of her comforting smiles.

  “It will be fun, I promise. I’ll show you around. We’ll look in a few stores, grab some lunch, maybe get our nails done. Just a girls’ day out.”

  It feels rude to reject their offer any more than I already have. With a quiet sigh and a forced smile, I agree to the plan.

  “Well, that’s settled,” Rose says before rising from the table. “I’m afraid I must jet off again. Let’s have tea tomorrow, shall we? There’s something I’d like to show you.”

  I’m starting to see why the town is so intimidated by Rose. She’s as fierce as she is kind, as assertive as she is observant, and as understanding as she is convincing. It’s strange, but even after going my entire life without knowing my grandmother, something about her feels familiar to me. And it’s as if she’s known me my whole life.

  “I’m ready whenever you are,” I say to Charlotte when I touch down at the bottom of the staircase.

  After the nerve-racking morning with Rose, I’m not as opposed to getting out of the house as I was initially. In fact, I could use the distraction from my thoughts. It seems distractions are all I have these days, and it’s all starting to feel a little d
ark. My mom would want better for me. I want better for myself, even if that means stepping outside of my comfort zone.

  We walk out the main door and down the front steps then hop into the white Escalade. I don’t know what it is about the sight of the tiny woman climbing into a giant SUV, but a light laugh pushes up my throat.

  Charlotte looks at me with amused curiosity. “What’s so funny?”

  I shake my head then wave around the vehicle. “It’s just so… obnoxiously big, isn’t it? Like Rose’s home, and—” I start to wonder if I’m being rude and let out a sigh. “I’m just not used to all of this. I don’t feel comfortable letting Rose spend her money on me. It must already be such an inconvenience having me stay here. But I’ll be eighteen soon and then—”

  “Stop.” Charlotte turns her full body to face me and holds my gaze for an intense few seconds, enough to tell me that whatever she’s about to say is serious. “You are blood, Katrina. You are a Summer. You have no idea what that means today, but you will. Whatever happened with your family in the past has nothing to do with you. You’re here because Rose wants you to be here. She’s always wanted to be a part of your life. I agree, the circumstances are unfortunate, but in no way are you a burden. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  I shake my head, refusing to believe it.

  “It’s true,” Charlotte says firmly. “I’ve never seen Rose like this. So lively, so… happy. It’s like she’s found her passion again.”

  I frown. “What? How?”

  “Ever since George died, her responsibilities to this town have become her life. She stopped remembering why she started all this work to begin with. She doesn’t even leave Apollo Beach anymore. I have a feeling your presence is already changing that. So enjoy today, will you? If anything, do it for me.” She winks, resetting the mood. “I could use a fun day out.”

  Tension releases from my body, and I lean back into my seat. “Fine. But I’m looking for a job while we’re out.”

  “Now, there’s a great idea.”